


i'll never stop (breaking the law for you)

by ZeGabz



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 07:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1771477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeGabz/pseuds/ZeGabz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of Tumblr-requested drabbles</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ...and then all at once

**Author's Note:**

> This is disgustingly fluffy at the end. Oh well. XD

He doesn’t know how it happened.

_Slowly …_

His entire life, Oliver Queen has been an independent soul. He’s never needed anyone. His family, friends, one night stands, he knew, especially after the island, that he could live without them.

But then, one day, he brought his bullet-ridden laptop to a quirky IT girl and everything changed.

Yes, he is broken, but when she smiles at him after a successful board meeting or a smooth mission in the hood, he no longer feels broken beyond repair.

He finds himself gazing at her without even realizing it, only noticing when Diggle clears his throat and sends an indulgent smirk his way. He finds himself touching her, often and without a clear purpose. A hand on her shoulder as she types away on her keyboard, an arm over her shoulder to pull her in for a half-hug after a particularly rough day.

"Oliver," she says one day, after he does nothing but smile blissfully at her as she went of an one of her (adorable) babbles, "What’s got you in such a good mood?"

"You," he answers truthfully.

_… and then all at once._

It takes seeing her, held by Slade with a knife against her throat to make him realize that he’s in too deep. This was a part of the plan, and Felicity made the choice, but when her eyes shut in fear as Slade grips her, Oliver knows.

He doesn’t tell her of this epiphany, not even when she gives him the perfect opportunity to on Lian Yu. He doesn’t tell her because he isn’t good for her and he can’t bear it if he puts even a little darkness in her beautiful, kind heart.

(He has a feeling he’d love her regardless)

His decision to keep his distance does nothing to quench the longing, the desire, and the purest, most simple thing he’s felt since the island. She’s the last thing on his mind at night and the first thought he has in the morning.

(She always has been, he’s just never accepted it)

He tries his best to ruin everything, because he knows no other way to deal with his self-inflicted heartbreak. He snaps at Felicity when she takes too long to decipher a scrambled signal, he declines her invitation to lunch, he avoids her concerned gaze.

It’s not until he asks Laurel to dinner in the Foundry late one night as Felicity is leaving that he’s finally put in his place.

"Oliver," she says quietly, as Felicity freezes in place before scrambling out quickly, "What are you doing?"

"Asking you to dinner," he replies smoothly, reaching for her hand. She steps back, a sad smile on her face.

"I have a better idea, Ollie."

"Really?"

"How about you ask the woman you’re actually in love with?"

The next morning, he brings Felicity a coffee, and leaves it on her desk alongside a note.

_Felicity,_

_I don’t have enough room to properly apologize to you for how I’ve been lately on this piece of paper, but I would love the chance to explain everything to you over dinner tonight._

That afternoon, after he gets out of a board meeting, he finds a note on his desk.

_Oliver,_

_Your behavior warrants a lot more than one dinner. I expect several, as well as a bottle of wine._

_Oh, and I love you too._

He looks over to her desk, and sees her already looking at him, a smug smile on her face.

"About time you caught up, Mr. Queen," she says.

(That night, he tells her he loves her so many times he loses count, and knows that he’ll never tire of it)


	2. oops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s meant to be a joke. An offhand comment, really, or something muttered that nobody hears. It’s meant to raise a chuckle, or bring a half-smile to Oliver’s face.  
> It's not meant to change everything.  
> ...oops?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teehee :)

It’s meant to be a joke. An offhand comment, really, or something muttered that nobody hears. It’s meant to raise a chuckle, or bring a half-smile to Oliver’s face.

It’s not meant to linger in the air like fog.

It’s not meant to change potentially everything.

But then again, Felicity Smoak has never had a very reliable brain to mouth filter.

“You know, I noticed something,” Felicity remarks while decoding files from a hard drive collected by Diggle during a recon mission that night. Oliver, the only other person present in the Foundry, looks over at her, eyebrows raised. Felicity swivels her chair around to face him from where he’s standing, or rather leaning against his salmon ladder. “Every time we face some big bad, like Malcomn Merlyn or Slade Wilson … you get touchier.”

Oliver blinks.

“Not that I’m complaining!” Felicity backpedals rapidly, “I don’t think anyone female could complain about you touching them. Not that you touch me, though you do- it’s just not touchy touches. Not that I know you touchy touch, because I-“

”Felicity!” _Oh thank God._

“-am babbling again.” Felicity purses her lips and offers Oliver a sheepish smile. “Oops.” He merely looks at her for a short moment, and then chuckles and turns away from her, removing his shirt in the process. Felicity takes it as her cue to return to decoding, and seconds later she hears the familiar rhythm of Oliver on the salmon ladder.

“Does it bother you?” _Clang._

“Huh?” Felicity asks, broken from her forced focus. Her fingers freeze over the keyboard.

“The touching.” _Clang._ “Do you want me to stop?”

“I, uh … “ She hears his feet hit the floor and begin to approach her. She wills her fingers to continue decoding as his footsteps get closer. “I don’t mind it.”

“Really?”

“Really.” _If I had it my way, you’d be a lot more than touchy with me …_

Feeling the air grow tense, and feeling the need to distract herself before the dwelled too much on Oliver Queen and what exactly she wanted from him, she continues. “Merlyn destroys half the Glades, and I get shoulder touches. Slade Wilson tries to destroy the entire city, I get an ‘I love you’. Will the next supervillain get me a proposal?”

Her fingers stop again, and she gets the feeling that she’s just crossed a lot of boundaries in the span of one sentence. She hopes he ignores it, as she can always rely on him to, and changes the topic.

Instead, she feels his hand on her shoulder and his lips whisper into her ear, “Maybe.”


	3. stupidly sacrificial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Seeing you hurting now, all to help me … you shouldn’t ever be hurting for my sake, Felicity. Ever.”
> 
> "As opposed to what?" she demands, frustration overpowering the wave of affection towards this stupid, beautiful, broken man who thinks he isn’t worth fighting for. "Seeing you dead and knowing I could have done something?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous said:
> 
> Olicity prompt: she gets shot again and Oliver gets freaked out

She's back the next night, typing away as if nothing's happened.

Of course, Felicity is very aware that something happened. And by something, she means her getting shot.

Again.

It was a graze more than anything, across her side. The good news? It could have been a lot worse. The bad news? It burns. Badly. However, Felicity knows she got lucky. She's dealt with a graze before. Nothing some of John's "aspirins" can't fix. 

She has absolutely no regrets, either, because if she hadn't jumped in front of Oliver, she might be standing over his grave instead of hunching over her computer and gripping her side every once in a while.

She hears him enter, alone, and his silence is deafening.

"I'm not going home, if that's what you're brooding about," Felicity says, eyes not straying from her work.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, instead of arguing with her (a wise move).

"Sore," she admits, swiveling around. Oliver walks over to the chair, kneeling down on one knee and setting his hands on her knees. Her breath catches, painfully, and she winces. His brows furrow.

"When was the last time you took the pain meds Dig gave you?" She doesn't respond. "Fe-lic-i-ty."

"Last night," she admits softly.

"Felicity," he murmurs, sounding too pained to be scolding.

"I wanted to be alert, to help you track him down." His eyes darken. "I know you'd go after him with or without me, but I'd feel better if-"

He stands, the motion cutting her off, and walks briskly away from her, arms crossed tightly. "You don't have to, Felicity," he says curtly.

"I want to," she insists.

" _You've done enough_!" Oliver yells, whirling around, and Felicity's rendered speechless by the raw pain in his eyes. "Carrying you back, Felicity, seeing the blood and you crying and not knowing if you were seriously hurt," his voice cracks on the final word, and he has to shut his eyes for a moment. "Seeing you hurting now, all to help me . . . you shouldn't ever be hurting for my sake, Felicity. Ever."

"As opposed to what?" she demands, frustration overpowering the wave of affection towards this stupid, beautiful, broken man who thinks he isn't worth fighting for. "Seeing you dead and knowing I could have done something?"

"I would trade my life for yours in a heartbeat," he replies, unyielding and solemn. Felicity's heart races, and wonders how the man spouting lines fit for an epic romance movie is the same man who takes down super villains annually.

"I . . ." she begins, but for once, cannot find words to reply. How _does_ one reply to something like that?

Oliver sighs, approaching her slowly before bending over until their faces are level and pressing his hand against her cheek. She leans into the touch by instinct, briefly remembering a similar moment from the first time she was shot.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, thumb brushing away a stray tear.

"I'm not," she says, ignoring the pain in her side and leaning forward until her lips meet the corner of his mouth for a brief moment. His eyes shut, and remain so as she leans back, breathing deeply as her side burns. "Can't we just agree that we'll both be stupidly sacrificial and hope it balances everything out?" His eyes open.

"I can't convince you otherwise?"

"Nope."

He chuckles, pressing a kiss of his own to her forehead before standing and walking over to the case holding his Arrow gear.

"As soon as we take this son of a bitch down," he says firmly, "You're taking your medicine."


	4. to catch a thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Well if you don't need anything hacked, why not just take Diggle?"
> 
> "I would, but I have a cover to maintain. Oliver Queen never shows up at one of these events without a beautiful woman."
> 
> "Take Laurel."
> 
> "Actually, I'd rather take you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be a drabble. I don't know what happened.

She should have let Diggle act as his plus-one.

She knows she's probably acting irrationally. She also knows that he isn't a mind-reader, and unless she tells him why she's upset he can't change anything. After all, how could Oliver Queen possibly know how much his _friendliness_ with every woman present at the party is bothering her? She has no right to be bothered.

But Felicity Smoak hasn't had to deal with real, heavy, emotional romantic stuff since . . . well, since ever. Her only love has been her computers, her work. And the wonderful thing about computers is that they're predictable. Certain programs perform certain functions, and when she's at the keyboard, she's in control. It's empowering, satisfying, and gratifying.

But whatever has developed between Oliver? This tango that's not quite a tango that they've been steadily dancing ever since he returned from the island? It's unpredictable, messy, and hopelessly out of her control. She can no longer hold back the way her breath catches when he touches her, the faint blush when he smiles at her, the way her eyes linger on him when he's not looking and hold his own gaze when he is.

This crush of hers that's far too strong to be a simple crush anymore is usually easier to push aside. But ever since Slade Wilson, ever since those stupid three words, ever since his cryptic words to her on Lian Yu, her emotions are no longer able to be contained. Whenever silence falls in the Foundry, her mind wanders to Oliver and the sincerity in his eyes when he confessed his love, the crushing disappointment mixed with adrenaline when the syringe touched her fingers.

"I hate auctions," she mutters to nobody in particular. She's sitting at the bar, dressed in a pale pink, flowing gown Oliver bought and insisted she wear, sipping on a glass of red wine she plans on charging to Oliver's tab. The man himself is smiling, talking up some ridiculously attractive brunette in a slinky black dress. Felicity snorts. "So much for maintaining a cover."

* * *

" _Well if you don't need anything hacked, why not just take Diggle?"_

" _I would, but I have a cover to maintain. Oliver Queen never shows up at one of these events without a beautiful woman."_

" _Take Laurel."_

" _Actually, I'd rather take you."_

* * *

And of course she'd immediately agreed. It's not every day a girl gets invited by the vigilante billionaire she's in love with to a party in Gotham City.

Whoa, wait. _In love with?_

She doesn't have much time to dwell on that terrifying prospect, as the empty seat beside her is then occupied by a rather large, handsome man.

"Put the lady's drink on my tab, Alfred," the stranger says with a suave smile.

"That's not-"

"My home, my treat," the man interrupts, holding out his hand. "Bruce Wayne." Felicity's eyebrows shoot up and she accepts his hand.

"Felicity Smoak."

"A pleasure," Bruce says, bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing it. Felicity wonders if she's fallen into another dimension.

" _Nice catch, Barbie_ ," says Roy's voice in her ear, no doubt from the Foundry where he and Diggle (who is actually outside the Manor, in the car) are keeping tabs on the party through Wayne Manor's security cameras. She almost laughs out loud, but is too shell-shocked to do anything but stare as Bruce releases her hand.

"Did you come here with anybody?" he asks. Felicity opens her mouth to respond, but then a hand wraps around her waist and a body is suddenly very close to hers.

"Me," Oliver answers curtly, with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Bruce glances over at her, and she nods and smiles.

"Oliver Queen, Bruce Wayne," she introduces, feeling as awkward as she's ever felt in her entire life. Oliver grasps Bruce's hand firmly (the testosterone battle going on in the single handshake is kind of astounding) and Bruce nods in greeting.

"Mr. Queen, I've heard much about your company," Bruce says, and Felicity snorts. The two man look over at her, and she turns it into a cough. Oliver pulls her closer.

"Swallowed the wrong way," she rasps. Bruce returns his focus to Oliver, who sends a warning glance her way before looking back at Bruce. It takes everything she has not to stick her tongue out at him in petulance.

"As have I, Mr. Wayne," he replies. "Perhaps we can do business together someday."

"Perhaps." Bruce glances at the clock. "Pardon me, but I should probably see to my other guests." He takes Felicity's hand and kisses it again, eyes on Oliver the entire time. "It was wonderful meeting you, Miss Smoak." He walks away without saying anything to Oliver.

" _So when's the wedding, Felicity_?" Roy asks.

"Stop," Oliver hisses, before looking over at her. "Stay focused, Felicity. We're here for a reason."

"That's rich, coming from you," Felicity mutters. Diggle chuckles. Oliver's eyes narrow. She stands, then, and moves out of the grip of his arm, still around her waist. "I'm going to go check on the items you've put up." He reaches out and catches her by the arm.

"Explain what you meant first."

"Why don't you go back to your conversation with your lady of the night?" Felicity suggests bitingly, but Oliver doesn't let go, instead pulling her back into his arms.

"Irena's nobody." His eyes darken. "You're supposed to be acting like my girlfriend, remember?"

"I'll start when you start acting like my boyfriend," Felicity snorts, wiggling out of his grasp. "Now I'm going to go and be focused, like you suggested. You can come with me and follow your own advice, or you can return to your flirting."

Roy whistles. " _You go, Barbie_!"

"Can it, Roy," Oliver mutters.

" _Not my fault Wayne's doing your job for you_."

"That's enough," Oliver says, louder. Roy wisely stays silent. Oliver glances down at Felicity, who sighs and walks off, fully expecting him to return to Irena, or whatever her name was. Instead, she feels his hand grasp hers and then he's at her side. "Any signs of our little thief?"

"We won't know unless she steals something," Felicity points out, "This woman's pretty good at avoiding cameras."

" _Then how do we know she's even there_?" Roy's voice asks.

"This event fits her MO perfectly," Felicity replies, "She's here."

"Incoming," Oliver murmurs as an older couple approaches. "Hello, Mr. And Mrs. Papp." Mr. Papp reaches out and clasps Oliver on the shoulder warmly.

"Oliver Queen, it's been too long." His wife glances over at Felicity.

"Who's this?" Oliver blinks.

"This is Felicity," he introduces, "She's my-my . . ." Felicity arches an eyebrow. "My girlfriend," he finishes lamely, meeting her eye. "Felicity, Mr. and Mrs. Papp were friends of my mother." His voice breaks on the last word, and Felicity squeezes his hand.

"We were devastated when we heard the news," Mr. Papp says solemnly. "We're sorry for your loss."

"Thanks," Oliver replies, tugging Felicity closer. Mrs. Papp clears her throat.

"We're glad to see you found someone, though," she says kindly. "How long have the two of you been together?" she asks Felicity, whose eyes widen.

" _Drumroll please_!" comes Roy's gleeful voice.

" _Focus_!" Diggle instructs.

"About a month!" Felicity replies. "I mean, we've been friends for almost two years now but we just got together. Not that there wasn't something all along, I mean, that's usually how friends become an item anyways, not that a guy and a girl can't just be-"

"Felicity," Oliver interrupts with a chuckle, "I think they get it." Felicity blushes, not meeting his eye, internally cursing herself.

"I'm glad to see you've found someone," Mr. Papp says sincerely. "And it can be hard taking that next step when you're friends." He looks fondly at his wife. "Took me long enough. About five years."

"It's good you're braver than him," Mrs. Papp says to Oliver with a teasing smile at her husband. "You never want to waste time."

"Good thing," Felicity echoes, smiling sagely at Oliver, who is trying very hard not to meet her eyes. She thinks she hears Diggle chuckling in her ear.

Oliver excuses them soon after, and wastes no time in (very badly) trying to change the subject.

"Digg, any signs of movement on my items? Is Felicity's tracker picking up anything?"

" _Nope_."

Felicity studies his face, not wanting to believe he's as unnerved by their conversation with the Papps as she is. "Oli-"

He turns away. "Not now."

She rolls her eyes. "That could be your catchphrase." He opens his mouth, a question on his lips but they're interrupted, yet again, by Digg's voice.

_"We've got movement, you two."_

"Which way?" Oliver inquires, arm wrapping around Felicity protectively. She squeaks as he pulls her closer.

" _The . . . back door_ ," Roy answers. " _I see, on the cameras from the outside. They're in black. Just walking, as if they own the place. See anything from the car_?" Felicity frowns.

" _No, there are lots of people coming and going_ ," Diggle replies, frustrated. " _Hurry up, Oliver_."

"That seems cocky," Felicity remarks, irked.

"It is," Oliver agrees, "Time to teach them a lesson."

They disappear from the party, with Oliver leaning in to supposedly whisper sweet nothings into her ear. She plays the part of enamored girlfriend, even managing to blush as Oliver whispers into her ear.

"Your tablet's in our car. Find somewhere safe and then do your thing."

"Alright," she purrs, sinking into her part as they pass a curious couple out the doors. Oliver's breath catches, but she says nothing.

There's no time to stop by the hotel to change, but lucky for them Oliver's the only one who has to. Felicity very deliberately keeps her eyes trained on her tablet's screen, instructed Diggle on where to go.

"They're moving pretty fast," Felicity tells Diggle, "They must have a ride now." She risks a glance at Oliver, who has slipped into his leather pants but is now shirtless. She forgets to look away.

" _You're closing in_!" Roy pipes up. Felicity looks back at her tablet, blinking rapidly to regain her focus. Damn Oliver and his abs.

"Thirty seconds," she mutters, turning back to Oliver. She picks up his mask and he dips his head as she puts it on him and then slips up the hood. "Good luck," she whispers, her earlier annoyance dissipating.

"Stay safe," he responds, a gloved palm pressing against her cheek for a brief second. Her eyes close by instinct.

The car screeches to a stop, and when her eyes open, he's gone. She grabs her tablet and begins pulling up traffic cameras and area schematics. She runs facial recognition on the thief, but pulls up nothing.

"Roy, do we have eyes on the private sector of Wayne Manor?" she asks.

" _They were locked_."

Felicity smirks, pulling up Wayne Manor's server systems.

"Talk to me, Felicity."

She smiles, loving those four words a lot more than she should. "Our little friend has entered the abandoned apartment complex to the right of where you are," she replies.

"I'll cover you," Diggle says, quickly instructing Felicity to stay where she is and locking the doors.

"They're on the third floor right now. Elevators are broken so they're using the stairs," Felicity states. "Room 3F."

" _How do you do that so fast_?" Roy asks, sounding awed.

" _She's remarkable_ ," Oliver says as his dot nears the apartment.

"Thank you for remarking on it!" she responds automatically, grinning. Focusing back on Wayne Manor, she says, "Wayne Manor's security is far too advanced for a simple billionaire."

" _What do you mean_?" Oliver asks.

"These cameras are a pain to hack."

" _You can do it_ ," Oliver responds.

Felicity smiles. "Wait for Digg, Oliver. We don't know how dangerous or armed this thief is." She continues typing, getting mildly annoyed at the military level encryption of the security system of the back of the Manor. "Got it!"

" _Rewind the footage, see if you can spot the thief,"_ Oliver instructs.

"Already on it." She pulls up the cameras at the back hallway of Wayne Manor. A woman slinks into view, slipping out of a glittering black dress and into a black body suit stashed behind a vase. "Oh my God," she whispers, suddenly recognizing the face.

" _What_?" Diggle asks.

"Hey Oliver, remember your little friend in the black dress?" she asks, feeling slightly smug as she runs facial recognition on the brunette's face.

" _Irena?"_ Her tablet dings as a match pops up.

"Yeah, her name's not Irena."

" _I'm confused,"_ Roy says.

"According to ARGUS-"

" _You hacked ARGUS_?" Oliver asks.

"Irena is actually Selina Kyle." She bites her lip. "Better known as Catwoman. A notorious thief who loves tight suits and heeled boots." She smirks. "Seems like your type." Diggle laughs.

 _"I actually prefer blondes_ ," Oliver replies, and Felicity gets the feeling he's not talking about Sara. Her heart pounds. " _Diggle's here, we're going in."_

Felicity remains quiet as Diggle and Oliver creep up the stairs, continuing to look into Selina Kaye's files. "She was spotted in Starling City around the time Queen Consolidated was robbed. Oh, and just FYI, her primary weapon is a whip-"

_"Kinky."_

_"Shut up, Roy_ ," Oliver hisses, _"Go on, Felicity."_

"And she-wait." A new dot appears on her screen, rapidly entering the complex from the other side of the building. "You have company. Other side, one person." She frowns. "They entered through a third floor window. How-" she cuts herself off, looking into any of Kyle's known associates and rivals. "Oh."

_"What?"_

"Looks like you're not the only vigilante at play." Whoa, that sounded weird. "Not that you're playing, obviously what you do is dangerous and serious-"

_"Felicity!"_

"Ever heard of Batman?" she asks. No reply.

 _"Batman or not, we're going in_ ," Oliver says, and his dot is soon moving. She hears scuffling sounds as they reach the third floor.

"Be careful," she advises softly, but by the time Oliver and Diggle reach the room, it's silent. "Guys?"

 _"It's not here,"_ Oliver hisses, and then his dot is on top of the dot supposedly on his donation. _"The tracker was removed."_

"Sorry," Felicity murmurs, a tight feeling of guilt emerging in her chest.

 _"It's not your fault Felicity,"_ Diggle says kindly.

 _"You were perfect, tonight,"_ Oliver adds. Felicity smiles despite herself. _"We should get back to the auction. Nothing else will get done tonight, and they'll wonder where I am if they start the bidding without me."_

When they return, Oliver guides Felicity to a secluded table. She sits down with a deep sigh, gulping down a glass of water. Her phone vibrates, and she opens the alert, almost spitting out her water.

"What is it?" Oliver asks.

"It's back." He still looks puzzled, so she clarifies, "The item. It's back." She grins, and holds out her hand. Oliver raises his eyebrows, but she keeps her hand raised, and with an indulgent smile he leans forward and high-fives her.

"Roy, check the cameras and see who returned it," Felicity instructs, meeting Bruce Wayne's eyes as she speaks. He winks, and she looks away, blushing. Oliver frowns.

"I don't like him."

They remain sitting together as the auction progresses, and when it ends, Bruce announces one final round of desserts before everyone can turn in for the night. Felicity disables the tracking devices on the sold items from her phone and finally sets it down with a pleased smile.

Oliver meets her gaze and holds it, deliberately reaching into his ear and removing the earpiece. Felicity follows suit. He stares at her for a long moment, looking tremendously conflicted, before finally speaking.

"What did you mean, earlier?" he asks in a rush, as if trying to get the words out before he can take them back

"You're going to have to clarify," Felicity says, "I say a lot of things."

"You said 'not now' could be my catchphrase." He leans in. "What did you mean?" Felicity blinks.

"Oliver I don't think you want to have this conversation-"

"Felicity," he interjects, eyes boring into hers. "I really do."

"Really?" Felicity asks, "Because every time I've tried to start this conversation with you, you've shot me down." Oliver opens his mouth to deny it, but she holds up a hand. "After Russia, in your office, when you said you couldn't be with someone you cared about. On the island, when you said that 'we both did' or whatever it was you said. I was ready to talk then, but now you want to? A month after your little bait and switch which was, I might add, not a part of the plan when we originally discussed it? After your not-a-confession, I thought everything would go back to normal, but it didn't. And now you're being sweet, and complimenting me, and touching me more, and I don't know what to do with it, Oliver. This dance can't go on forever, because if we're just going to be friends, then fine, but I need to know-"

He silences her with his lips.

How very cliche.

He pulls back too soon, resting his forehead against hers.

"Where did that come from?" she asks, dazed, eyes still closed.

"You made me think," he replies, voice hoarse and breath mingling with hers and wow, it's like he's air and she's been drowning and she just wants to breathe him in forever. "-of all the times I could have been happy, and told myself 'not now'." He pulls back, and she opens her eyes and finds him smiling softly at her. "I thought I didn't deserve being happy, I hadn't earned it. I still don't deserve you-"

"Oliver . . . "

"...but I can't pretend like I didn't mean what I said last month anymore." Felicity smiles widely, and leans in to kiss him again. "I don't deserve you," he repeats against her lips, and she pulls back.

"You deserve so much," she whispers, "And I don't care what you think you deserve, but if you ask me, we deserve this."

He kisses her again, and when desserts arrive, Felicity declines for them, taking Oliver by the hand.

"Let's go home," she murmurs. She pulls out her earpiece and puts it back in. "Hey John, we're-"

 _"Word of advice, lovebirds,"_ says Roy's voice, _"Next time you take your comms out for a private conversation, turn them off too."_


	5. that time felicity cursed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Felicity curses, Oliver's jealous, Diggle knows what's up, and Roy is amused as hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> A jealous Oliver kisses a very angry Felicity lol bonus points if he's the one that makes her angry

"You're an asshole," Felicity fumes, stalking down the steps and into the Foundry, Oliver trailing behind her.

"Did you just . . . curse?" Oliver asks, slightly dumbfounded. Felicity rounds on him and he shrinks back, and Felicity feels a brief spark of pride that her loud voice is enough to terrify a man who can put the fear of God into the Russian mafia.

"Oliver Queen, you are treading on very thin ice right now," she says, voice low.

"I didn't even do-"

"Anything wrong?" Felicity finishes for him sarcastically. "Right. Because there's absolutely nothing wrong with walking in on a private dinner and basically harassing my date until he left."

"Date?" Roy pipes up curiously from his seat on the couch. "I didn't know you were dating."

"Believe it or not, I happen to have a life outside of this," Felicity snaps, turning back to Oliver. "My entire life revolves around you, Oliver Queen. And the one night I actually get to go out and do something for myself, you-"

"I could've bought you dinner," he mumbles, a pout on his face. Felicity blinks.

"That's not the point, Oliver." She steps forward. "I respect your decisions. Well, except for sleeping with Isabel, but I dealt with it like an adult. I may not agree with all of your personal choices, but I don't get in the way of your private life. I respect you enough to let you live. And all I ask is for the same in return. But do I get it?" He shrinks back. "No! Every time any guy shows a hint of interest in me, you go all growly caveman as if I have a stamp on my forehead saying : PROPERTY OF OLIVER QUEEN."

Oliver scoffs. "I don't-"

"You do," Diggle interjects.

Oliver turns to Felicity. "I just don't want you getting hurt."

"And if _you're_ the one hurting me?" she questions. He winces.

"That is . . . that is the _last_ thing I want, Felicity." He takes a deep breath, scratching the back of his neck, clearly searching for words. "I want you to be happy." _With me_ is not spoken, but both Felicity and Diggle hear it in the silence.

"We are not together, Oliver," Felicity says, voice low. "And no matter what you may have convinced yourself otherwise, I owe you nothing in regards to who I date and what I do." He stares. "I wasn't on a date. Bruce took me to dinner to offer me a job, a very good job, by the way, which I declined. And even if it was a date, you had to right to show up like the green-eyed monster-"

"You think I'm jealous?"

"I _know_ you're jealous. Because for some reason, you think that you can't be with me and it infuriates you to the point where you're convinced that I have to be alone to be safe, when really, you can't bear to share me."

"Felicity-"

"I am not yours to share. I am not an object for you to coddle and protect. I am a fully capable human being, who for some reason sticks by you despite the fact that you're the most stubborn, infuriating, bull-headed-mmph!"

In a split second, she's enveloped by his arms and his lips have cut her off, effectively putting an end to her rant, and she finds that she doesn't mind. Apologies are whispered into her lips, and rough hands tangle in her hair, pulling her closer. Disengaging for air, he leans his forehead against hers, eyes closed.

"You're right," he says simply, "And I'll work on it."

She grins, pulling back as Roy clears his throat awkwardly and Diggle claps him on the back, guiding him up the stairs.

"I always am," Felicity replies with a breathless smile. "And I'll help you."


	6. you're not alone (i'm gonna make this place your home)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It starts as a pity thing. Well, pity plus a few emotions Felicity doesn't care ruminating on in depth, so she just tells herself it's pity.
> 
> Or, Oliver moves in with Felicity, and it's too easy and natural to not reflect the love between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can you write a fic where Oliver and Felicity are roommates and how they fit into each other's lives so well

It starts as a pity thing. Well, pity plus a few emotions Felicity doesn't care ruminating on in depth, so she just tells herself it's pity.

After all, Oliver Queen has lost his entire fortune and company, and he's done so much for her, so she figures that letting him stay with her until he gets back on his feet is the least she can do. Diggle has a now pregnant Lyla to worry about and Felicity guesses that two brooding masses of muscle might be a bit much for poor Lyla to worry about.

"You can, uh, sleep on the couch for tonight," she tells Oliver the first night, "I have a guest bedroom, but it's pretty sparse at the moment, because I don't usually have guests unless it's my mother visiting and that luckily doesn't happen often. We'll work out bed arrangements tomorrow." His lips twitch. "That came out wrong."

"I understand," he says quietly, eyes earnest and warm. "Thank you."

"Always," she replies, because who is she kidding, she's hopelessly his and there's nothing she can do about it. He sits down on her couch and she goes to her closet to grab him some blankets while he changes into clothes she had stashed at the Foundry.

He's in sweatpants and a white t-shirt when she returns, lounging on her couch like he's already at home. She gulps at the sight. When he catches sight of her he scoots over so she can sit down next to him. She tosses the blankets on him, snickering when one lands over his face. While he worms his head out of the Hello kitty blanket (one of the oddest visuals she's ever seen) she grabs her remote and turns the TV on. She plops down beside him and scans until she finds reruns of Doctor Who, settling on that.

They watch in silence, and when Felicity's eyes begin to feel heavy, she doesn't bother moving, and falls asleep with her head on Oliver's shoulder. She dreams that he told her he loved her, and that he meant it.

**Day 1, 3 AM**

She wakes up to find Oliver now laying down across her couch, and herself curled up practically on top of him, her head resting on his chest. He must have shifted in his sleep, bringing her with him. Felicity glances at her window and sees that the sun has yet to rise. She wonders if she should wake him somehow, or at least move, but exhaustion from the trip to Lian Yu, and the mayhem preceding it, weighs down heavily on her and she nestles back into him, drifting off yet again.

When she next awakens, she's alone and in her bed. Confused and slightly dazed, she rubs her eyes and sits up, almost falling out of her bed when she hears noises from her kitchen. Remembering her new guest (and the fact that she may or may not have cuddled with him through the night), she hops out of bed. She looks around for her glasses, and finds them on her bedside table. Noticing with resignation that she's still in her blouse and jeans from the night before, she quickly changes into a more practical fitted tee and sweatpants.

He's holding two mugs of coffee when she emerges from her room. She gives him a sleepy smile.

"I was about to wake you up with this," he admits, handing her a mug. She takes a sip and sighs contentedly.

"How very domestic of you," Felicity teases softly. He chuckles.

"Before you woke, I went by my old home, picked up my things." He points to a pile of suitcases with a sheepish smile. "I hope that doesn't seem-"

"That's great!" Felicity interrupts, "We'll get you moved in after breakfast." Oliver's gaze darkens, and she realizes how she sounds. "I . . . I got nothing to fix that." He lightens somewhat, snickering at her rambling.

"I'd offer to cook, but I haven't exactly ever had to do it before, if you don't count roasting rats over a fire." Her eyes widen, because a mention of the island is rare, and a joke about it is virtually nonexistent.

"I'll . . . make some scrambled eggs," she stammers out. She starts toward the kitchen, but is struck by an idea. "Oliver?"

"Yeah?"

"Want to learn?"

He grins.

"Miss Smoak, it would be my honor."

**Day 7, 2 PM**

Felicity hears the door open and shut and tenses before the hears Oliver's increasingly familiar words of greeting. "Felicity?"

"In here!" she calls in response. Oliver pokes his head into the room moments later, appearing puzzled.

"Why are you in my room?" She arches an eyebrow. "Your room that I am borrowing," he amends. She smirks, and then holds up a crumpled dress shirt.

"Answer me this, Oliver, have you ever had to fold your own clothes at home?" He frowns.

"Not exactly, but I did-"

"This," Felicity interjects, tossing his wadded up shirt at him, "-is not folding." Oliver looks down at the wrinkled shirt and then back up at her helplessly. "You can't take back a company without looking sharp, and although your face can be very . . . convincing to female investors, or certain male investors, who knows, you need to fold your-"

"Felicity Smoak, are you calling me pretty?"

"Pretty hopeless," she quips easily, moving to sit on his bed. "Come on, Mr. Queen, time for another lesson in normal living."

He picks up on it quickly, although his fumbles give her the opportunity to use many of the rich kid jokes she's been mentally stockpiling since she first met him.

"How was the job hunting?" he asks later, when they're eating mint chip ice cream on the floor of his now organized bedroom. Felicity sighs.

"They all seemed interested when I turned in my applications," she says with false brightness.

"But . . . ?" Oliver hedges, sensing her hesitation.

"But the jobs are, and I hate saying this because then I sound arrogant, well, they're beneath me." She sighs. "I feel like a computer snob saying it-"

"You're not wrong," Oliver interjects, "You're a computer genius, not just any old IT girl." Felicity grins at him, feeling her cheeks turning red. He smiles back. "Your skills demand more than an entry level tech job."

"Unfortunately, nobody's hiring anything above an entry level job." Felicity sighs and devours an entire spoonful of ice cream. "I never thought I'd miss being your assistant. But to be honest, I'm kind of missing the job security." Oliver's face falls.

"I'm sorry." Felicity looks over at him, but he avoids meeting her eye.

"Hey." She reaches out and gently prods him in the arm. "I don't blame you for this. For any of this. You shouldn't either."

"I should look for a job." She snorts.

"And pray tell, who exactly would want to hire you?" He sighs. "You need to focus on getting your family's company back. And while Thea is . . . away you can work at the Verdant. It was yours first anyways." He flinches at the mention of his sister but reaches out and takes her hand in his, squeezing it gently before releasing it and returning to his ice cream.

"I just hate feeling useless," he says after a moment of silent eating. "And I hate feeling like I'm being a burden to you, especially after everything you've done-"

"Oliver!" she cuts him off firmly. "You are _not_ a burden. And if you were, you know me well enough to know that I would not hesitate to let you know. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

**Day 10, 10 AM**

"Oliver!"

He comes running from his room, eyes alert. "What?" Felicity snickers.

"Calm down crazy, I was just going to ask if you went by the grocery store last night." Oliver visibly relaxes, and a smug grin stretches across his face.

"Yeah, I saw we were running low on milk so I decided to go and grab some," he replies. Felicity takes a second glance into the refrigerator.

"Among other things," she notes, "Including bananas, cherries, chocolate syrup, and vanilla ice cream." Oliver winks.

"Raisa taught me and Thea how to make banana splits when we were younger," he says, "So I was going to make you one tonight after we stopped by the Foundry to pick up a few things. Just a way to thank you for letting me stay here." Felicity stares, shocked into silence. "And I can guarantee that it'll be the best thing you've ever tasted."

**Day 10, 11 PM**

"This might be the best thing I've ever eaten in my entire life, Oliver Queen."

"Told you so."

**Day 16, 3 AM**

_She's holding him in her arms, her tears cascading onto his bloodstained face. She begs him to not die, to hold on just a little longer so that John can arrive with help, but he just smiles sadly at her and closes his eyes. She cries, burying her face into her chest and begging the earth to swallow her whole._

_She can still hear her name on his lips, and sobs all the more because it's not real, will never be real again, and she never got to tell him-_

"FELICITY!"

Felicity shoots up into a sitting position, eyes wide open. Her breathing is staggered, and she can feel sweat trickling down her neck. A hand gently comes to rest on her shoulder and squeezes. She turns and sees Oliver, in her bed wearing nothing but a white shirt and boxers, very much alive.

"A dream," she sighs, drawing her legs in and resting her forehead on her knees. "Oh God, Oliver, I'm sorry." She blinks rapidly, trying to expel the nightmare from her thoughts. Oliver's hand shifts to her back, his thumb rubbing small circles into her skin. She shudders, whether from his fingers on her back or the memory of her dream she's not sure.

"I heard you," Oliver murmurs behind her, hand continuing to caress her. "You were whimpering . . . my name. I thought you were hurt or someone had broken in." Felicity raises her head, glancing back at him over her shoulder. "I came in, and you-you were thrashing and crying." Felicity's hand comes up to her cheek and indeed, she feels drying tears. She wipes them away harshly. "I tried waking you, but you were so upset, and I didn't know what I could do, so I just got in and said your name."

"I'm sorry-"

"Shhh," he admonishes softly, "It's nothing." She turns, drawing her legs back in to sit crisscrossed in front of him. He meets her eye. "Do you want to talk about it?" She shakes her head. "Do you want me to stay?" She nods. "Then I'll stay." He gently reaches for her and tugs her towards him, until her head comes to rest on his chest, and they're what can only be called cuddling.

Against her better judgment, Felicity lets a hand gently trace from his shoulder down his chest until his hand stops its slow descent.

"You're here," she breathes, feeling herself drifting back to sleep.

"I'm here," he echoes softly, and the darkness overtakes her again.

**Day 33, 5 PM**

Diggle joins them for dinner, bringing his "famous" green bean casserole. He arrives an hour early, saying that since Lyla was called in to work, he had nothing better to do. Felicity laughs and opens her door wider, letting him inside.

"Hey, Dig!" Oliver calls from the kitchen, where he's chopping fresh parsley. Diggle shoots a surprised look at Felicity.

"I've been teaching him how to cook," she says proudly, "And he's actually not so bad."

Diggle snorts. "Has he burned anything yet?"

"I always save it."

"Hey!" Oliver pouts, and Felicity sticks her tongue out at him playfully. His pout dissolves into a smile as he returns his focus to the herbs.

Felicity takes the casserole dish from Diggle. "I think the World Cup is on TV. We're not nearly done yet, so you can just relax until we finish!" Diggle arches an eyebrow at her choice of pronoun, but does as she asks without further comments.

She pokes Oliver in the shoulder as she passes by him, returning to her mixing bowl. "Did you chop the onions?" she asks. He shakes his head.

"No. They irritate my eyes and make me tear up." Felicity smirks.

"Afraid Dig will doubt your manliness if you cry over onions?" she quips. Oliver rolls his eyes.

"No, I just think that since you have eye protection, you should do it."

"Glasses. You mean my glasses."

"Yeah, yeah."

They work in comfortable silence, Felicity mixing the meatloaf ingredients and then stuffing them into her pan, Oliver doing easy tasks that actually do save time. After almost a month of living together, they've developed a domestic rhythm that Felicity knows she'll miss once he gets his company and home back.

Felicity sets the timer on the meatloaf and leans against the counter, a smug grin on her face. Oliver returns her look, reaching out to wipe a smudge of tomato sauce from her cheek. She leans into the touch automatically, and his hand lingers.

Knowing she can't let the spell last too long, she murmurs, "We should save some for Roy. Bring it to the Foundry tomorrow." Her eyes dart to her phone, but Oliver's hand angles her face back towards him.

"This isn't Roy's first solo night," he points out.

"I still worry," Felicity replies, moving away to deposit her apron on its rack. "And I don't want him feeling left out, so remind me to save him some." Oliver gives her an indulgent smile and nods.

Diggle has a soccer game rerun on, but she barely pays it any heed, instead checking her phone for any updates from Roy until Oliver swipes it from her and sticks it into his back pocket with wink. She narrow her eyes at him, but there's no malice in her glare. There never is.

"You need to relax," Oliver insists. She snorts.

"I will when you will!"

"I am relaxing!"

After dinner, Oliver volunteers to wash the dishes, earning an outright laugh from Diggle, which he takes as a challenge.

"Plus," he says to Felicity, "You deserve a break."

She switches to the news as she and Diggle settle down on her couch. They discuss her temporary job rebooting the city's computer systems after the attack, how Lyla's pregnancy is progressing, and plans for revamping the Foundry before Diggle finally says what's really on his mind.

"So how's living with Oliver?" he asks pointedly.

"Subtle, John, subtle," Felicity snickers, but catches the gleam in his eye. "It's going surprisingly well."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She shifts awkwardly. "It's funny. I never knew how lonely it was here until I actually had someone to say good morning and goodnight to," she muses. Diggle regards her curiously.

"It hasn't been . . . awkward for you?"

"You're referring to this crush you believe I have on Oliver?" she deadpans.

"Something like that," Diggle relents with a soft smile. "I just want to make sure this situation isn't bringing up anything you don't want brought up. I don't want to see you hurt." Felicity smiles.

"I can handle myself, John," she chides, "But thank you."

"How long is he staying with you?" he asks.

She almost says forever.

**Day 50, 11 AM**

"How long are you staying?" she asks, her head resting on his shoulder as they watch _The Avengers_. Oliver stiffens beneath her.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asks, voice clipped and carefully neutral.

"Oh God, no!" Felicity squeaks, jerking into an upright position. "That came out wrong! I just wanted to know because a while back Digg asked and it got me wondering, but it's not that I mind having you here. It's actually one of the best things to happen here and heck, I probably wouldn't mind it if you just stayed forever, and oh, that probably sounded _insanely_ creepy but still-"

"Felicity," he interjects, a finger coming to rest on her lips, effectively silencing her. " _Breathe_."

"Kinda hard to do when you're touching me," she replies against his finger. His lips quirk, and she groans. "Oh jeez, it's not my day." His finger is removed and he smiles at her.

"You're fine, roomie," he says with a teasing smile, nudging her. She blushes. He bites his bottom lip, which should go down in history as one of the most unfairly adorable things she's ever seen him do. "Did you mean it?" he asks after a long pause.

"Mean what?"

"That you wouldn't mind if I just, uh . . . stayed." Felicity's eyes widen.

"Do you . . . do you want to?" she whispers. He blinks.

"Well, yes." Her mouth falls open, but she can't find the brainpower to close it. "I just never realized how nice it is to be able to come home after acting the part of the CEO all day and the Arrow all night and not have to be anything other than Oliver. Not Mr. Queen, not Ollie, just me. I walk in here and all I feel is _relief_ . . . and then I see you and I feel happy and not alone. If you don't want me to stay here, if you want your privacy, then I will leave the second my company is back in my hands. But if you want me to stay, then prepare to deal with me for a long time because now that I've gotten a taste of living with you I don't know how to live without you."

"Did you just ramble?" she asks with a watery smile. Oliver returns the smile, hand reaching out to cup her cheek.

"You've rubbed off on me."

"Well then," Felicity murmurs, tears brimming in her eyes, "Consider yourself a permanent resident."

(It takes another year of living together before he moves into her bedroom as well, but that's a whole other story.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pleeeease comment if you enjoyed! Comments give me new life! :P


	7. that one time in the coat closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Felicity and Oliver are too wrapped up in each other to remember that they're on a mission. and in a coat closet.

She can feel him pressing her against the back wall of the closet, his breath hot on her neck, arms trapping her where she stands. Her eyes are closed, because the sight of him all up in her business in his gear might be too much for her already raging hormones to handle.

"Felicity," he hisses, "Did you get the hard drive?"

"Yeah," she whispers back, "I would hold it up but you're big and it's tight in here and I would probably touch something you don't want me touching so you'll have to take my word for it." She pauses, opening her eyes to find him smirking at her. "There were a lot of innuendos in that sentence."

"Yes there were," he replies, voice tight. She opens her mouth to respond, but then she's pressed further into the wall as she hears the door to the bedroom they're hiding in open. Voices echo through the tight space. One of Oliver's hands moves from next to her face. "Where's your phone?" he whispers.

"Back pocket," she responds, feeling a little dazed at his close proximity. His hand boldly comes to rest on her hip.

"Which side?"

"You're good." The adventurous hand slides to her lower back and then lowers, deftly tugging her phone from the pocket. "I could've reached it," she points out, although she's certainly not complaining. He merely slides her phone into her hand, fingers brushing hers as he does so. She gulps audibly.

"Pull up the recorder, and then hand the phone to me. I'll slide it to the door." Felicity nods, fingers diligently tapping away before handing the phone back to Oliver. He hums his approval and she feels it more than hears it as he slides the phone closer to the voices. Felicity feels a sudden flash of nerves- they could very well get caught.

"If we do, I'll protect you."

She has GOT to stop thinking out loud. If she doesn't, she might let it slip how much she has the urge to kiss him in this tight space, how much she wants to kiss him all the time, really.

He grins at her then, wide and open. "You want to kiss me?"

_Seriously?_

The door opens then, light flooding into the tight space. A husky wall of muscle stares the two of them down, gun in hand. "Do you two want to finish flirting, or should I just shoot you?" Felicity glances up at Oliver, whose mouth twists into a smirk as the man realizes just who he had just threatened.

"Go get 'em," Felicity murmurs, stepping aside as Oliver shifts into full-on Arrow mode and lunges forward.

(When they do "finish flirting", it lasts for hours on end and through to the morning.)


	8. perhaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps, just perhaps, he can have her after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prompt this time, I was just COMPLETELY EXCITED by the season 3 description and had to write something!

She's beautiful.

It's not the first time Oliver has noticed as much, and it certainly won't be the last, but there's something about Felicity Smoak that day that makes her seem more radiant than usual. Perhaps it's the relaxed way she's sitting in her chair, casually monitoring police scanners even though the likelihood that something will actually come up is low. Perhaps it's her lazy half-smile as she distracts herself on her tablet with a game of sudoku. Perhaps it's the tight fit of her red dress that she wore accompanying him to a lunch meeting with a QC employee who thinks his odds of getting his company back are bright.

Perhaps it's just that she's there, and always has been.

She begins chattering about a new program she wants to buy for the layer "once we're rich again, of course" and Oliver can't seem to stop staring. She's light and open in a way she wasn't for weeks after the ordeal with Slade. His "I love you" took its toll on their partnership and he had feared losing her for good, but their relationship had not only returned to what it was before, it strengthened. She strengthens him.

Every day, with every smile and keystroke and argument.

"Felicity," he interrupts with a soft smile, as she's lost herself in a tangent about HTML coding and the simplicity of it all, "Would you like to have dinner Saturday night?" She freezes with her mouth open and stares at him for a long moment before catching herself.

"Y-yeah!" she stammers, "I would lo- I mean, yeah." She bites her lower lip. "I just said 'yeah' twice. Well, now it's three times, so I'm just gonna-"

"I'll pick you up at eight," Oliver interjects with a wide smile, reaching forward to rest his hand on her shoulder. She squeaks, blushing.

"Okay."

Diggle and Roy enter the Foundry then, and Felicity returns to her work, but Oliver notes (smugly) the smile she wears for the duration of the night.

Perhaps, he thinks, he can have a life after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment??? :D


	9. a year in the life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (It takes another year of living together before he moves into her bedroom as well, but that's a whole other story.)
> 
> well, consider this the whole other story about the year it took Oliver to move into Felicity's bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Consider this a formal request for the "whole nother story" that is Oliver moving into Felicity's bedroom. Loved the oneshot, it was so cute! I'd love to see it play out like that in S3.
> 
> daysinthelifeofgabi said:  
> a) my name's gabi too, how funny and b) would you mind writing a follow-up to the olicity roomies prompt? I don't care what it's about, I just want more domesticity. Thanks and have a lovely day/night/whatever!
> 
> Anonymous:  
> so, you're going to write a fic about that year that took for oliver to go to felicity's bedroom, right? hahaha (just like that prompt you got, with just perfect domestic olicity <3) btw, love your writing! :)
> 
> contains mild spoilers based on everything that's been released about season three! also, a little knowledge about comic!atom and comic!artemis might come in handy. :)

**T minus 365 days**

"Come on, Oliver, let's head home."

It's been a long day, and after an even longer night of lost leads and no breaks, Felicity can see that her partner/roommate/friend/something is at the end of his tether. He strikes his punching bag relentlessly, and she can see that even after a full hour of nonstop aggression, his muscles are still tight and his nerves are still shot.

He freezes, however, when she speaks, breathing hard. She meets his gaze calmly, seeing the emotions dancing in his tired eyes.

Finally, he nods minutely.

"Home."

**T minus 300 days**

She bursts into his bedroom at six in the morning and jumps onto his bed with her tablet in hand, not even thinking of the implications of her definitely not thought out actions. He sits up immediately, eyes wide and alert and hands coming to rest on her hips as she realizes she's jumped into his lap.

"Am I dreaming?" he asks blearily. Felicity's eyes widen.

"Is _this_ the sort of thing you dream about?" she squeaks. He blinks rapidly and shakes his head, and when his eyes meet hers again he's fully awake and wearing a tight smile.

"Felicity."

"Yes?"

"You're sitting in my lap." She looks down, suddenly feeling the source of his chagrin.

"Oh." He arches an eyebrow. " _Oh._ " She scrambles off his lap, moving to a much more appropriate place beside him. She hides under her unbrushed hair, not wanting him to see the extent of her blush.

"Sorry," he mumbles, settling a pillow over his, er, morning issue, "I can't exactly help it."

Her face reddens even more. "It's fine!" she croaks, biting her lip to lock in the nervous babble about to break through. Oliver chuckles and nudges her gently.

"So what brings you into my room at this hour?" he asks. Felicity holds up her tablet with a wide smile, any awkwardness forgotten in her rush of excitement.

"Crime rates have _dropped,_ " she gushes, "And the article gives a brunt of the credit to, 'Starling City's resident vigilante- the Arrow, a mysterious yet vital asset of the city's safety.' Oliver, you're a hero!"

He stares at the article in silent shock, before looking back at her. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but just pulls her into his arms instead, chest vibrating with an exuberant laugh, the most sincere one she's heard from him in a long while.

"A hero is nothing without his partner," he whispers into her hair.

"You know it!" she quips, not missing the way he just pulls her closer. Reveling in the moment, she lets her eyes fall closed and focuses only on how it feels to be in his embrace.

**T minus 261 days**

The air between them buzzes with electricity that night as they prepare a simple dinner- macaroni and cheese and grilled chicken. Digg sends her a text, requesting that she pack some up for him and Roy. Felicity stirs the boiling macaroni gently, mind focused not on her task, but on the fact that Oliver Queen had asked her out.

On a _date._

Things were going well. The current CEO of Queen Consolidated was far friendlier than Isabel Rochev had ever been, and agreed to allow Oliver to 'work things out' regarding the company. Crime was still down- nothing was too much to handle. Quentin Lance had been promoted after his health scare, and the new captain had called off the anti-vigilante taskforce.

Things were even better between Felicity and Oliver. Living together was, and still is easy, natural, and shockingly enjoyable. After rough missions, she has someone to comfort her as she eats her mint chip ice cream. On easy nights, she has someone to watch movies and eat popcorn with. Oliver fits into her life in the best possible way, and this ease has slowly been working its way into her heart, whispering that just maybe his 'I love you' wasn't as fabricated as she believed.

"You know, Felicity, I'm sure talking to me doesn't break any pre-date etiquette." Felicity is broken from her reverie by Oliver's good-natured quip. The macaroni is done, so she lifts to pot and drains it of water. Oliver takes over, mixing the cheese in as she goes to check on the chicken.

"What would you know about pre-date etiquette, Mister Queen?" Felicity tosses back, not turning to look at him. "I thought you just skipped straight to the dessert."

"Not with you." The sincerity of his reply prompts her to turn, and the sight of Oliver standing there, holding a bowl of macaroni and cheese with an adorably serious pout on his face makes her heart swell.

"I stand corrected," she mumbles with a shy smile, breaking their eye contact to reach for some plastic containers to bring to the lair.

**T minus 255 days**

"Felicity? Felicity, I'm sorry." His voice breaks on his last words, but Felicity resolutely keeps her door shut and clutches her pillow tightly to her chest. She allows her tears to flow freely, safe from his sad eyes.

"Go away, Oliver," she begs softly. "It's what you're best at, isn't it?"

The next morning, he's not at breakfast. She tells herself her heart isn't breaking even more at that.

Struck with a thought, she scrambles up and digs up a blank sheet of paper, and writes furiously on it for the rest of the morning.

**T minus 250 days**

She sits alone on her couch, sipping her coffee. Something acoustic plays in the background, but she still feels on edge. She tells herself it's just been that kind of week, what with the new supervillain and all, but in all honesty . . .

Oliver made her feel safer.

She tries not to let her mind drift to the annoyingly happiness-depriving archer, but she can't help it. He's her focus during the day and under her wing at night. He was ingrained in every part of her life for months. And now that he's gone (although his stuff is still in his room, taunting her) something's missing.

Felicity knows she's better than this. She may be in love and heartbroken because Oliver Queen believes that he cannot afford any form of joy, but first and foremost she's a badass computer hacker and technology expert with a scar from a bullet wound, dammit.

She'll move forward. And she'll be _happy_.

(She still wishes he'd come back, though.)

**T minus 231 days**

When he shows up at her doorstep with a bouquet of sunflowers and white roses and Chinese takeout, she just smiles and tells him his room is just as he left it.

They don't talk about the date that never happened. They don't talk about his feelings for her, or hers for him. They act like everything is normal.

She acts like it's totally normal to still carry the piece of paper with her.

She wonders how long this new bubble can last.

**T minus 200 days**

_"Hey, Felicity, it's Ray Palmer, from Queen Consolidated. I've been going over some paperwork from this quarter and I'm very, very impressed by the work you've been doing in our IT department. Your talents were wasted as an assistant. Anyways, I know we haven't had the chance to talk too much, but I would love to get to know you better. Could we possibly have dinner sometime this week? Alright, I'll leave you to, um, whatever you like to do after work. Please call me soon and goodnight."_

Felicity's eyes lock with Oliver's as the message plays, and their gaze doesn't break until it ends. His hands clench into fists, and she finds she cannot bring herself to say anything.

Their eyes meet again, and Felicity is suddenly hit by a wave of annoyance at the anger in his expression. Wordlessly, she picks up her phone and hits the redial button.

 _"Felicity?"_ comes Ray's voice on the second ring.

"Hi, I just got your message," Felicity says, eyes still locked with Oliver's. "And I would love to have dinner. Are you free on Friday?"

 _"Yes! Wow, great!"_ Ray replies instantly, voice delighted and enthusiastic, drawing a small smile from Felicity. _"Could I pick you up at eight?"_

"Eight is perfect," Felicity says. "I'll see you then." Oliver still holds her gaze.

 _"Can't wait!"_ Ray responds, _"Goodnight, Felicity."_

"Goodnight, Ray." Felicity hangs up and arches an eyebrow at Oliver, daring him to say something. He turns around and stalks to his room, shutting the door with more force than necessary. Felicity rolls her eyes and decides to think less about her broody partner and more about her date.

**T minus 147 days**

She can't remember the last time they curled up in bed together. Since the date that never happened, they've kept a careful distance from each other in regards to intimacy, especially after Felicity and Ray became a real, tangible thing. They can't get too close- he closed that door, and she's moved on. No, really.

But tonight is the exception.

Tonight, Oliver Queen faced off against and was almost killed by Artemis, a new archer in town without the moral code Oliver had adopted. Artemis, a pawn in a much grander scheme, the same horrid scheme that had thrown a wrench in her and Oliver's fledgling romance. Artemis, also known as Oliver's no longer missing sister, Thea Queen.

His face is burrowed against her neck, one hand brushing his fingers in her ponytail, the other holding her close. One of her hands rubs small shapes into his shoulder, the other runs through his hair in slow, soothing strokes. He doesn't cry, but his misery is like internal bleeding, killing him silently.

"I almost shot her," he whispers brokenly, "I almost killed my baby sister."

"But you didn't," Felicity reminds him, "You saw who she was and you stopped."

"She . . . she _hates_ me." He's shaking again, so Felicity pulls him in closer, whispering words of comfort she knows won't help.

"Oliver," she murmurs, "I need you to look at me." He hesitates, but lifts his head from her neck and meets her gaze. His eyes are blank, empty, which tears Felicity apart. "You haven't lost her yet. Thea is strong and stubborn, just like you. She will return to you in her own time."

"But what if-"

"Oliver, this is her island." His eyes shut and he bows his head, trying to push down the pain. "You came out stronger and better. So will she."

"How do you know?" he implores. She gives him a watery smile.

"You Queens never sink into the darkness completely."

That night, she digs the piece of paper out from her drawer and sticks it in her wallet.

**T minus 122 days**

He slams the door when he walks in, making Felicity jump. Ray, on the other side of the line, asks if she's alright, and she babbles some sort of excuse. Oliver's eyes are ablaze as he enters the living room, shrugging out of his coat and dropping it on the coffee table. Felicity decides to keep her distance and focuses back on Ray's animated voice as he tells her about his day.

"Are you talking to Ray?" comes Oliver's voice. She waves him off impatiently, making a joke to Ray about boring board meetings and grinning proudly when he laughs. "Hang up the phone." Felicity turns to glare at Oliver, but he doesn't waver. "Now."

"You aren't my boss, anymore, Mister Queen," she snaps, covering the phone.

"I need to talk to you."

"It can wait."

"No, it _can't_."

"When I'm on the phone with my _boyfriend_ , it can!" she retorts. Oliver flinches but just crosses his arms. "No, Ray, I was just talking to myself. I'm still listening." She tries to ignore Oliver's fiery glare boring into her back, but after another fifteen minutes of it, she gives up. She says goodbye to Ray and promises to meet him for dinner within the next week.

When she hangs up, she rounds on Oliver, grabbing a throw pillow and flinging it at his head. "What the HELL was that?" Oliver catches the pillow and tosses it to the side.

"Your boyfriend is keeping secrets from me," he growls. "He's hiding whatever is going on in Applied Sciences."

"Well maybe it's because he's the CEO!" Felicity deadpans, "And he is well within his rights to keep secrets."

"It's my company!" Oliver roars, and Felicity shrinks back. "For all that I know, he could be developing Mirakuru 2.0 right under our noses, all because you're too blind to see that Ray Palmer cannot be trusted!" His words rip through her like a jagged knife, and for a moment she just stares at him in utter shock. He seems just as surprised, blinking rapidly before he comes to, realizing just what he's said. He opens his mouth, but Felicity holds up her hand.

"Don't, Oliver, just . . . don't."

"Felicity-"

"NO!" This time she's the one screaming, and he shrinks back farther than she did. "You think I'm the blind one? Me? You're the one who throws a temper tantrum every time a man just so much as looks at me. You're the one who always makes himself an obstacle in every relationship I have. You're the one who told me you loved me, took it back, then asked me out, and took it back again. And now you're trying to make your jealousy seem like some super instinct when in fact, it's just the fact that you made a mistake, and you cannot handle the fact that it's _over_."

He doesn't interrupt her, and when she finishes, just stares. She holds his gaze defiantly.

After what feels like an eternity, he says, "I'm sorry," and retreats into his bedroom. He emerges five minutes later, saying he's heading to the lair. She lets him go alone.

**T minus 101 days**

Oliver gives her some distance when they find out. She's grateful for his effort, but in the silence of their apartment, all she can do is think. Think and regret.

Ray Palmer.

Her boyfriend, the boyfriend with whom she, despite the mess that was her and Oliver's partnership, was honestly falling in love with, was in fact hiding something. He was using Queen Consolidated's Applied Sciences division to develop a ray that normal standards would deem far too dangerous to even consider. Queen Consolidated was almost broke, so many of its resources went towards this ray.

Oliver never said he was right when he drove her home that night, but it's all she thinks, and it angers her. She was wrong, but so was he. Why should she have to admit defeat when he never did?

She remembers little from that day, except for an explosion during a board meeting she and Oliver were permitted to sit in on. Everything was nice, dull, and normal until the world was blindingly hot and white.

She remembers being trapped underneath concrete, remembers sparks and then darkness. She remembers distant sounds of Oliver screaming her name, and then remembers seeing Ray through a crevice. She remembers him begging her to get up, that there was a way out, that she just had to get up.

Her leg aches, and Felicity sighs heavily. The doctors say she'll be in a wheelchair for a few months. A shattered leg and broken ankle will do that to you.

She remembers another flash of light, and then Ray suddenly at her side. She remembers confusion, and then Oliver pushing Ray aside and taking her in his arms. She remembers hospital beds and finally, finally, remembers coming home this evening.

She wishes she could forget Ray's confession at her hospital bed, his admittance of designing a ray that could shrink atoms down. She wishes he hadn't told her it should have killed him, using it.

But most of all, she wishes he hadn't lied to her for the entirety of their relationship. She wishes he hadn't torn apart the company of the man she still loved despite everything to meet his own ends.

He understood when she broke things off with him, kissing her forehead before leaving. She feels relief, but it's overshadowed by shame, anger, and most of all, longing.

Oliver's quiet entrance interrupts her dark thoughts, and she brightens when she sees Diggle come in behind Oliver. They both hold full grocery bags, and she furrows her brows questioningly.

Diggle speaks first. "Oliver thought you could use some cheering up."

"So you went shopping?" Felicity asks in a small voice, glancing over uncertainly at Oliver, who for once looks uncertain.

"You take care of us," he says, "So I thought that for tonight, we could take care of you."

The tears come unbidden and instantly Oliver's at her side, arms around her. "Thank you," she mumbles. He chuckles.

"Anything for my girl."

The night is spent devouring pint after pint of mint chip ice cream, and introducing John Diggle to the wonderful world of Game of Thrones.

(His commentary makes it feel more like a comedy than a bloodbath)

She adds to her piece of paper after Oliver has taken her back to her room.

**T minus 73 days**

Every morning, Oliver lifts her out of bed and into her wheelchair, Every night, he tucks her in and whispers goodnight.

When he presses a kiss to her temple one night, she's fairly certain her heart skips a beat.

When it becomes a habit, she still cannot get used to it.

**T minus 54 days**

Thea Queen is the last person Felicity expects to see when she opens her door.

"You're . . . you're not Oliver with groceries," she deadpans. Thea quirks an eyebrow, looking down at her with barely concealed amusement, and Felicity is stuck by how very Oliver such a simple action is.

"Definitely not," Thea agrees, glancing past Felicity. "Could I come in?" Immediately, Felicity rolls aside, letting the younger Queen inside. Thea takes the place in, and Felicity doesn't notice the way she smirks when she spots Oliver's favorite mug alongside Felicity's, or his movies mixed in among hers.

"How domestic," Thea comments. Felicity blushes.

"We've been rooming together since . . . " she trails off, realizing Thea might not take kindly to any mention of-

"Slade Wilson's attack," Thea finishes. "Almost a year." Felicity nods once. Thea says nothing, just sits on the couch and picks up a picture frame, containing a photo of Oliver, Felicity, Diggle, and Roy from Christmas.

"I, uh, I would ask how you were doing," Felicity ventures awkwardly, rolling to the edge of the couch Thea's seated on, "But I-"

"Already know, since you've been keeping tabs on me for Ollie and Roy," Thea finishes yet again. Felicity purses her lips.

"They both miss you."

"They could have stopped me from leaving by being honest with me."

"I honestly can say that I know how you feel," Felicity says, "But Oliver is your brother. He is your family in ways that Malcomn Merlyn never was and never will be." Thea glances downwards. "And Roy Harper loves you so very much. I'm not saying you should be with him again, but it should mean something." Thea looks up at her disbelievingly.

"Roy _still_ loves me?"

"Yes."

"Like you still love my brother?"

Felicity's saved from having to formulate a response by the doorknob turning. Thea scrambles up, but Felicity orders her back down.

"You didn't come here just to talk to me," she points out to the younger girl, who looks more vulnerable than Felicity's seen her in months.

"What if he-"

"Only one way to find out," Felicity interrupts, going to meet Oliver at the door.

He greets her with a smile. "Miss me?" he teases, before noticing something off. "What is it?"

"Someone's here to see you," Felicity says gently, "And I suggest that you listen long and hard before saying a single word."

**T minus 21 days**

It's like her life has gone from an action thriller to a bad romantic comedy in the blink of an eye.

She halfheartedly dances to her i-pod on shuffle and the volume up as she rolls her way to the shower, clad in only a small white towel. She makes no note of the closed bathroom door, because Oliver has his own bathroom and is probably being broody in his bedroom. She doesn't see the sticky note that's fallen off of the bathroom door, eyes shutting in bliss as she hums along to the upbeat track.

She's greeted by a _very_ naked Oliver Queen when she pushes the door open.

"Oh, God, no!" she screeches as he whirls around, not yet in the shower.

She sees things.

Oh God, she sees _things_.

She bolts out of the bathroom as fast as the chair will take her in reverse, slamming the door behind her and heaving herself onto her bed. She groans into her sheets, knowing her face is probably red as a tomato. She hears the bathroom door creak open.

"Felicity?" She turns her head to see his poking out. "My shower nozzle is broken . . . I left a note-"

"It's fine," Felicity interrupts, "Please just shower and then put some clothes on." He grins at that, winking before retreating back into the bathroom.

"Hope you enjoyed the view!" comes his voice moments later, and she throws a pillow at the bathroom door.

**T minus 5 days**

She doesn't mean to overhear the conversation . . . but it's not her fault Diggle and Oliver decided to have it in her living room. She presses against her bedroom door as much as her wheelchair will allow, straining to hear.

"Ray may be out of the picture, man, but there's going to be others. Felicity isn't going to just sit and wait while you get your act together."

Felicity almost lets out a high-pitched noise, but clamps her hand over her mouth in time to cover it.

"You think I don't know that?" Oliver's strained voice asks, "Of course I do! But I can't . . . I asked her already, and I blew it. I almost ruined our entire friendship, Digg. I can't do that to her again."

Felicity almost makes her presence known, not appreciating having her romantic life discussed as if she were a child. She pulls the sheet of paper out of her pocket and adds another line.

Diggle sighs heavily. "You just need to talk to her. You owe her that much."

"I owe her so much more than that."

**T minus 0 days**

"You ready to go?" Oliver asks, grabbing his phone. "Diggle should be here now."

Felicity cocks her head to the side. "Oh, he's not picking us up tonight." Oliver frowns, but shrugs it off, crossing the living room and picking up the keys to his Ducati. Felicity doesn't move from her seat on the couch.

"Fine, then, we'll take my bike. You can ride that now, right?"

"Oh, we're not going anywhere, Queen," she chuckles, only her fingers' rapid pattering breaking the look of full composure she wears. "First off, we can't carry my new crutches on your bike, even though I can technically ride it now. Secondly, Roy and John can handle tonight. We're going to have a talk." Oliver's eyebrows shoot up.

"A talk?" he asks hoarsely. Felicity considers his statement.

"Well, mostly it's going to be me talking and you listening and not interrupting . . . but yeah, for all intents and purposes, we're going to have a talk." She motions at the couch. "Sit down."

She notes smugly, as he complies, that the masked vigilante of her city follows her orders and commands without question.

She pulls a small, crumpled sheet of paper out of her pocket. "I've had a lot of time on my hands lately, especially when I was still on sick leave. And that time has given me the opportunity to think about exactly what it is that I want." She pushes the paper towards him, and he looks at it, eyes widening.

"Is this a-"

"I would call it a manifesto of sorts, but that word sounds so negative. Let's just say it's a declaration." She chuckles, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. "We seem to have communication issues, so I thought it would be best if I made my intentions clear as day."

"When did you start this?"

"After you asked me out." He gulps, remembering the aftermath of that. "We'll get to that. Anyhow," she continues, snatching the paper back, "Let's get to it."

"Feli-"

"I, Felicity Meagan Smoak, am in love with Oliver Queen." She looks at Oliver as she recites the first line. His mouth falls open slightly. "I don't know when it started, although I would say it was somewhere in between him calling me remarkable and him telling me to hold onto him tight."

"Platonically," Oliver adds with a slight smirk, though his eyes still seem utterly awed. "Sorry, I'll stay quiet now."

She reads on, not letting her eyes leave the page for fear of losing her nerve.

"For about two years I watched Oliver sink back into old, toxic relationships, but because I wanted him happy more than anything, I said nothing. He was happy with Sara, and he obviously wasn't over Laurel, so I let it go and told myself things between us would never move beyond friendship. Ever. I only ever spoke up when he slept with Isabel Rochev, because wow, he's better than her and deserves someone who truly cares.

"On May 14th, 2014, Oliver Queen told me he loved me. For the first time, I let myself believe that maybe I was wrong, maybe he felt something after all, maybe he was finally ready to let me in." She clears her throat. "He wasn't."

"I'm sorry," he interjects, "I know I said I'd be quiet, but God, Felicity, you have to know I meant-" Felicity shushes him with a small smile.

"Just let me finish." He nods sullenly. "-But now I think he is. Today, he asked me on a date. He's had many victories lately, and I'm happy for him because now, he can see that he too can have a life outside of the Arrow.

"But it won't always be that way. We'll have losses, and since Oliver is Oliver, he will find a way to try and deprive himself of happiness- even if he inadvertently hurts me in the process.

"Therefore, for those hard times, I have here all the reasons why he cannot just run and hide every time a new threat arises."

"You made a list?" Oliver asks.

"Well, a regular conversation doesn't seem to do the trick with you," Felicity retorts before reading on. "One: It's my life. I have not been manipulated into any of my choices, nor will I allow myself to be. I deserve to be the one to decide what's best for me, and if that includes Oliver Queen, I should be given the chance.

"Two: we live together. I'm not sure how long my hormones can take living with him before I explode, and I think this applies to him as well."

"It does," Oliver croaks.

"Three: it does neither of us any good when we're both lonely and miserable. And newsflash, Queen, that's what us being apart always results in. I have two years of intensive study to back it up.

"Four: there is only one thing worse than loss, and that is regret. If I were to die, all Oliver would be able to think about is the fact that he never said how he truly felt, and it would eat him up. And he has enough burdens to bear. But if he gave us a chance, we might lose it all, but we might have it all as well. And isn't that worth the risk?

"Five: it is physically impossible for Oliver to let me be in a relationship with someone else.

"Six: relationships are built on honesty, and nobody knows Oliver better than me and John. And since John is married and all, it makes logical sense for Oliver to be with one of the few people who love and accept him for everything that he is.

"Finally, we should be together because I'm done waiting. We've paid our dues a thousand times over, and it's time we got our reward. Not that I'm an object to be won or anything, because wow, how much more patriarchal could that be- but that's not my point." Felicity chuckles. "I even ramble when I write." She turns to look Oliver dead in the eye. "You know I'm right."

"I don't want to hurt you . . ."

"You already have, and I can handle it."

"You deserve better-"

"I decide what I deserve."

"I-" Felicity flat out rolls her eyes, and when Oliver's expression finally, finally shifts, she wants to jump for joy. "I love you."

"I know," Felicity replies with a grin, feeling very Han Solo-esque.

He moves closer, taking her hands in his. "I meant it the first time."

"Yeah, I figured," she says, starting to feel a little breathless because wow, he's getting really close and he's gonna-

Kiss her.

His lips are gentle against hers, soft and warm. But she's been waiting for this for what feels like forever, so she doesn't let it stay gentle for long. Her arms wrap around his neck and she responds hungrily, insistently, putting her all into the kiss. He kisses back in kind, arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her close.

"I can't believe you made a list," he teases against her lips when they part for air.

" _I_ can't believe you made me resort to making a list!" He laughs, lips finding her neck and exploring, effectively distracting her.

"Touche."

(They move into her bedroom soon after, and it's soon apparent that it'll be a permanent thing. Especially when, a few months later, Felicity stumbles across a small velvet box in their drawer . . . )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, that was exhausting to write. ten freaking pages. XD feel free to comment and keep the requests coming!


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